This photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge, taken on the way down from the Marin Headland, was judged last week in my very first photographic competition. Judged - and found wanting. The verdict? Nearly Good Enough But Not Quite. Which is a generous way of saying – it was bumped off in the first round. Reason being, ‘there wasn’t enough definition because of the mist’.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WASN’T ENOUGH DEFINITION? THE MIST WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF THE SHOT!  WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU, JUDGE? ARE YOU A COMPLETE FOOL??????

You see, I too am no stranger to rejection or the outrage that comes with it, that someone clearly incompetent has sat in judgement over one’s work. I’d have done a lot better with a different shot, I think; that one of the flower. Or with a different judge. Preferably one who isn’t an utter moron.

So if you are a rejected author I don’t blame you for muttering under your breath or sticking pins into a voodoo doll that looks just like me – it’s all part of the process, and at least I can empathize because I too have a passion, photography, in which I truly wish to excel. Of course I’m delighted for those people who win the prizes. It’s just annoying that their shots aren’t nearly as good as mine . . . . . . . . . .

Submissions that I read tend to fall into three categories.  The first two are relatively easy to deal with: 1) those I feel confident are not for me and 2) those with which I wholeheartedly fall in love. Category 3) - those I have to think very hard about - is hardest by far, often requiring a lot of a) scrutinizing b) agonizing c) toing and froing d) experimental revising. Some of these submissions work out famously in the end – either for me or another agent. Others don’t, for a myriad of reasons. These are the Nearly But Not Quites, and if I don’t manage to work through the problems and ultimately take them on, I always remember them and look on Publishers Marketplace to see if they’ve sold. That has happened rarely, but you can be sure I’d be beating my head on the wall to have missed out (competitive, moi? Is the Pope a Catholic?).

What are the hallmarks of a NBNQ? Tricky, because they’re different every time and that’s what makes the decision so tough. But here are a few of the dilemmas I’ve faced in manuscripts, and what I’ve done about them:

Issue: A storyline that has an unusually commercial and conceptual edge to it, but where the actual plotting is so haywire that I can’t see a logical way to resolve the problems. Action: Suggest a brainstorm with the author to see if fresh thinking can ensue. That can lead to radical deconstruction/reconstruction of the story, but that might be just the thing that’s needed to preserve the great concept; working it through in a completely different way.

Issue: A premise that is quirky and really original, but aimed at what I feel is the wrong age group. A YA novel or a middle-grade novel? Such a vital decision in how the whole thing is skewed and whether or not it finds a market.  Action:  Gently introduce the possibility that the story would be better re-framed for the different age group (NB: This advice preferably administered with some form of sedative.)

Issue: An interesting and original premise and a plot that hangs together. But the voice just falls short, which means the whole thing doesn’t quite hit that sweet spot where I can be confident an editor will lose their heart to it. Action: Tricky one, this, because issues of voice can be so intangible – it’s like grabbing a cloud. Identify the heart of the story where the emotional impact lies, then suggest moments where a new and significant focus might fall. This may help the writer to lift those key scenes or bits of dialogue into something fresh and memorable.

Issue:  Amazing writing, lyrical and original. But plot bursting with characters and incident in a way that overloads a story that would be more impactful if more spare. Action:  Suggest taking out a whole character and strand; so basically, strip it down. (Again, Prozac is good to have on hand. But hey, this one – from my publishing days - ultimately went on to be shortlisted for a major literary award so je ne regrette rien . . . )

Issue: Fresh writing, fresh concept, an essence of real charm. But grammar, punctuation and phrasing chaotic and reading the manuscript is like being in a car crash. Action:  Roll up the sleeves, put on the apron, get out the heavy-lifting gear and dig in, sentence by sentence, because this one is going to require a LOT of involvement – and tact. But you know what? It could be worth it for all concerned, in the long run.

Issue: There’s something really interesting here – good tone, an arresting idea, something I’ve not seen before. But the major potential of this premise is somehow being missed; it’s all too shallow and many obvious moments (to me) are being missed. Action: provide some notes that are primarily in the form of questions, so that issues underlying the story are opened right up for further thought.  OK, everyone laughed when I talked at SCBWI LA about ‘squeezing the juice from the fruit’, but any and every story will be way more absorbing if you get out that juicer and SQUEEZE THE JUICE FROM THE FRUIT. In other words, know your backstory; become intimate with your characters; think through the implications of every single aspect of your story. Is it funny? Then it can be funnier. Is it emotionally powerful? Then make me reach for the Kleenex.

Issue:  Good writing, well put together story, all very sound. But just not . . . captivating? A bit derivative of other stories around? Action: Another very tough one, because captivating is what it has to be. If I have a particular reason for needing this one to work, I again might suggest a brainstorm to see if there are more layers, ideas, elements that could be added to increase the depth and breadth of the story. It’s not a question of ‘Is this good enough?’ It has to be truly standout.

So, those are a few everyday dilemmas from the editorial ‘to do’ list. How deliciously simple it would be if manuscripts could be tested with a piece of litmus paper. Red – it’s a winner. Blue – back off. But there’s only the patient trial and error, the test it and see, the have another go, the maybe it will – of editorial work and consideration. And all I can really do is read like a READER, not just like an AGENT. Read so I let the story and the writing speak to my heart, not just to what I think the market might want right now. Read so I hear it and feel it. And that’s when I make decisions I know I can live with, whatever the outcome.

Nearly But Not Quite. It hurts, doesn’t it. But there’s a way forward from being a NBNQ – and that’s the slow, steady learning and development. If not this photograph then maybe another. If not this story then maybe the next.

I shall probably never be an award-winning photographer, but I might just possibly get an Honourable Mention in a little local competition one day. Then I’ll aim higher. And dare to dream. How about you?

It’s been a cross week (and more) in the books industry. Wal-Mart, Amazon and Target slashing prices in a bestsellers war (with potentially dire effects on independents who can’t drop prices like that), and now Sears joining in to reward customers who buy from those companies. Accusations at Frankfurt of advance-fixing among European publishers. Heated debates on whether or not STITCHES is truly a young-adult title and therefore worthy of its National Book Award finalist status.

Plus, of course, my very own bit of bad temper reserved for US publishers who refuse to recognize territorial exclusivity in the countries that make up the Commonwealth – a vital part of any potential deal for a UK house (for example, if you can’t grant the UK exclusivity in India, they may well not buy the book, thus losing a deal for the author). Sorry, but it makes me mad when you redraw the globe in a way that contravenes my authors’ best interests!

Yes, as always this crazy industry exists on the hard and barren rock face between the toughest of commercial interests and the most sensitive kind of creativity. As an agent I’ve got to have two distinct lobes in my brain – one that is gimlet-eyed, flinty, pusillanimous (don’t you love that word?) . . . . in a courteous kind of way. And one that is attuned to the slightest nuance of a sentence, that revels in imagery, and that sees and hears the spark distinguishing the very best writing from the dull and plodding. I’ve got to think of ways we could turn a plot inside out so that it works better, suggest a new strand that would leave the reader with a fresh perception of humanity, and come up with a title that will make a weary editor’s hand reach for your manuscript as it piles off the printer. But I’ve also got to dig in, arms crossed, sturdy as the Rock of Gibraltar, for the contractual points that really, really matter. Welcome to my world – metaphor meets high-discount royalty rates!

So why the choccy muffins and candles? Because you know what . . . . it’s a pretty good life and I’ve got things to celebrate. It was two years ago - on October 13, 2007 - that I got on the plane from London and arrived (distinctly tremulous, but concealing it well) in Washington DC.  I had two suitcases - and an absolute certainty that this was a defining moment in my life and nothing would ever be the same again. And hey, I was right!

In the last two years the Greenhouse has taken off and established itself on both the US and UK scene. Two years of making a few people very, very happy (by signing them up and selling their work) and many people really quite miserable (by rejecting them). The second part is always horrid and can’t be avoided. But it’s also been two years of getting to know writers in a whole new way, grappling with plot, rediscovering the essence of story, speaking to groups large and small around the USA, and becoming recognized as an agency that only sends out quality work. What an adventure it has been!

We are constantly growing and morphing and I hope you’re enjoying the revamped website. We’re pretty excited about it – the depth and range of information we’re aiming to provide, the publicity opportunities that shine a light on our authors, as well as useful titbits (we hope) for all you new writers out there. We’ve already got plans for where we go from here, but meanwhile I hope you’ve spotted the new News page which highlights just how much is going on all the time at Greenhouse.

Look, let’s forget the grumpiness and think mellow thoughts. It is what it is. The business will change and develop over the coming years in ways large and small, and many of them will be outside our control and as unstoppable as a glacier. But good stories will continue, whether told around the fireside in a forest, or read on the 7:00 am commuter train from Union Square, DC to Penn Street, New York, or from Basingstoke to London. And that’s where we come in – you writing, and us helping to get you to story-thirsty people.

Talking of ‘thirsty’, it’s that time of day. How about we all get a cup of tea and relax with a muffin. After all, there’s nothing like a bit of choccy cake to cheer one up. And let’s face it, we deserve it! 

There are so many things that I don’t know. For example, anything about chemistry. Or how someone could shoot a sea lion for fun. Or what would be the best solution in the Middle East. Or where the last twenty years just went.
So it’s reassuring to realize that there are some things I DO know for sure. And here are a few of them – in no particular order, because isn’t life just like that?

1 I should never, ever take a vacation.  I absolutely can’t spare the time. I say this because I got back a week ago from my first real vacation since arriving in the USA in 2007. San Francisco was everything I had hoped and more – but let’s just say the tsunami warning sign on the ‘17 Mile Drive’ perfectly summed up the state of my inbox when I got back.

2 I must always remember to take vacations. You can’t stay alert and inspired and insightful in this business without occasionally wrenching your eyes away, watching pelicans swooping over a lake, and thinking other thoughts. An exhausted agent is a no-good agent!

3 Sometimes the things you know are contradictions. See above.

4 The Greenhouse website is . . . somewhat exciting.  If you’ve been a regular visitor to this site, you’ll have spotted our new dedicated Youtube channel and redeveloped Author section. Do have a look around. Our aim is to keep it current, fresh and relevant, and we see it as the heart of how we project Greenhouse to the writing world. We’re working on a News page right now, and already fantasizing about Phase 3 of the site. We intend to keep it growing and developing, doing our best to inform aspiring writers and promote our clients. Virtually all our authors now have interviews posted on the site, and our aim is for all to have Youtube trailers in due course.

5 Like Jude Law (interviewed during his run as Hamlet), we don’t believe in reviews. Oh, except when they are good.  Hooray for Val Patterson’s in Booklist: ‘In her memorable first-person voice, filled with the minute observations of a young artist, Cyan sketches out with believable detail the beautiful setting, the unspoken family tension, and her fragile recovery of hope after loss.’ Have you read THE OTHER SIDE OF BLUE?  It’s just out, and you can read Val’s interview in our Author section.

6 You just can’t have too many animals.  We have adopted a 319-pound sea lion called Chippy who was nursed back to health at the Sea Mammal Center on the Marin Headlands. He had been shot and somehow managed to swim up a river and climb on to a police car. Fortunately Chippy hasn’t actually moved in with us. Somewhere out there in the wild ocean, he is honking and playing in the surf. Go, Chippy, go!

7 You can’t help but be excited by film stuff.  My August trip to LA was productive.  We now have leading Hollywood co-agents on board for two of our authors, and a third is on the way. We don’t work with one agency on film rights – we have close contacts with a small number who get first look at our projects. What happens is that if we sell film/TV rights, the Greenhouse commission is split with the co-agent and our film attorney, who thrashes out the deal.  Which all means you get great representation, minus the stress. 

8 We love new Greenhouse clients.  Welcome to Winifred Conkling from Northern Virginia, whose fictionalized version of a true story – working title, SYLVIA AND AKI – has sold to Tricycle Press. The book will be based on the story of two girls – one Hispanic, one Japanese – whose lives briefly intertwined during World War II, when a landmark lawsuit made waves in the California school system. This is a different kind of book for Greenhouse, but a story we agreed needed to be told.

9 It is hard to imagine a more extraordinary sight than the Golden Gate Bridge emerging from a pillow of cloud. Ethereal, mysterious – and a photographer’s paradise. Hence my 350 pix.

10 Everyone needs encouragement, even literary agents (believe it or not). Lots of you are encouragers.  But my personal award for Encourager in Chief goes to lovely Ellen Braaf – SCBWI Regional Adviser for the Mid-Atlantic region. Ellen welcomed me to this area two years ago, she has helped me in so many ways, and she never fails to encourage me every time we meet. Like last Friday when Valerie Patterson and I spoke at the Northern Virginia Writers group (affiliated to the Writers’ Center in Bethesda). It is hard to imagine how many literary people Ellen must have quietly encouraged over the years.

11 Never do Pilates on a mat next to a girl less than half your age, who is part prima ballerina and part gazelle. I know because I have to do it. She is gorgeous, she is supple and toned, she is immaculate and lycra-clad, and she never has a hair out of place. As ‘some people’ collapse groaning, she is smiling sweetly and doing every torturous move to perfection. I may have to thump her in her ‘core’.

12 Death is the new black. It’s amazing how many submissions I’m seeing that involve Death. Hot dead guys. Girls who become dead. Books of the dead. Death is alive (so to speak) and attends my high school. Whole families wiped out. It’s carnage out here in the submissions, I tell you. We’re perennially fascinated and repelled by death; or maybe it’s where we explore when we recognize the vampire and shapeshifter glut.

13 I love New York.  And I’m off there Wednesday through Friday. Seeing lots of editors, lunching with Donna Bray of Balzer & Bray; dining with author Teresa Harris (TREASURE IN THE PAST TENSE; Clarion 2010); meeting up with Sarwat Chadda of DEVIL’S KISS, who’s been touring the US for 2 weeks courtesy of his publisher, Hyperion. The tour ends with a launch party at Books of Wonder in New York on Thursday.

14 Titles are extremely important.  The power of a good title cannot be overstated. It can almost sell a book for you.  Titles tend either to come instantly and easily - or they are incredibly hard to get right.  Brenna Yovanoff’s novel FE will now be titled THE REPLACEMENT in the USA (Simon & Schuster are still deliberating the final title in the UK/Commonwealth). FE was an intriguing title but it was ambiguous (it was actually the chemical symbol for iron, not any permutation of fey or fae etc). THE REPLACEMENT is clear and strong, perfectly sums up the plot, is easier to pitch both at home and abroad, and allows for a market of both girls and boys.

15 City Lights in San Francisco’s North Beach is a fantastic book store. Small and idiosyncratic, full of nooks and crannies, it has lots of political works, belles lettres and history – and a nice little children’s section. Around the corner is Vesuvio, the bar frequented by Jack Kerouac and Dylan Thomas.  Go and buy a book and breathe in that delectable indie booky aroma.

16 Sometimes you just have to laugh.  Which is what I thought when I saw the four submission emails from one writer – all with attachments [we don’t now accept attachments].  ‘I am not breaking your submission guidelines; I am reinterpreting them for our possible mutual benefit.’ Thank you, sir, for making me sit back in my seat and laugh. (But you can probably imagine what happened next . . . )

17 10:00 PM is too late to be sitting at my desk.  Good night and see you soon!

I know you all like to be kept up to date with exciting new developments in the Greenhouse. And what could be more thrilling than to tell you that we have a new intern at the agency! He arrived a few weeks ago and here’s one of the very first shots of him hard at work.

Our intern’s name is . . . . But wait.  Human Resources have just told me that I can’t reveal his true identity due to his age (18 weeks), so I’ll refer to him by his pseudonym.

People, meet Wee Man.

And because I know you can’t wait to hear all about him – his background, his academic rigour and literary interests, and the profound role he will no doubt play in shaping the Greenhouse in years to come, I invite you to share this staffer’s very first interview.

Wee Man, I know you are small in stature, but mighty in intellect.  Can you tell us a bit about your academic background and what led you into the world of books?

WEE MAN: Sure, Sarah. To be honest, I was always a high flyer (though I say this with humility).  I started leaping off sofas from an early age and then graduated speedily to stairs. Just give me a platform and I’ll make the leap! In terms of college, I majored in many genres and periods of literature – English classics, biography, historical works, metaphysical poetry. I’m eclectic, really – they all taste good. There are so many great books to sink one’s teeth into and I’m always hungry for more.

Oh, and hot news! I’m about to go back to college to take a Masters. It’s basically an intensive course in obeying them - Masters, I mean.  We’ll be covering a lot of ground in a very circular way – basic walking to heel, sitting and staying.  There’ll also be a lot of ‘bonding’ with other students, which could be challenging. I should graduate with Honours in Bottom-Sniffing, but face-to face debate with Retrievers is an area I’m still working on.

After that who knows – I may go for a doctorate.

I see. That’s impressive. And can you tell us a little about the books have influenced you most? It’s interesting that you chose to intern in a specifically children’s agency.

WEE MAN:  I know. Some have actually said that kids’ book are a bit of a step down after my work on the theories of Proust but that just makes me growl. Sharon Creech’s LOVE THAT DOG influenced me deeply (I’m constantly recommending it). MARLEY AND ME is OK up to a point (ie, where he dies), but that Marley was a bit of a goody-two-shoes; I could have shown those journos some tricks that would have made their eyes pop. If we’re talking about that dread Banned Books list, I’d have to nominate OLD YELLER. What is it with dogs and death? Enough already.

What isn’t widely known (sorry about the shameless self-promotion!) is that I’m currently shopping my own novel to movie agents. Titled FANGS TO WEE MAN, it’s a dystopic in which a normal suburban family is terrorized by a shape-shifting dachshund that morphs from cute puppy to hell-raising werewolf.  Basically it’s hot paranormal fantasy, with a spritz of autobiography. Genre-busting and, frankly, terrifying.

Well, we wish you all the best with that project, WM. But on to what readers REALLY want to know. What’s it like to work in the Greenhouse – and what is The Boss like?

Ha ha, yes! So much I could tell you on THAT one, but I value my position too highly.  Actually, I don’t see that much of The Boss – other than her feet (and let me tell you, we’re in line for a mani-pedi, know what I mean?).  But I do hear her a lot, jabbering away above me at the desk and thundering on that keyboard. Gets pretty hard to sleep, truth be told.  She says the same things a lot: ‘Show not tell, show not tell, show not tell’.  And there’s a lot of sighing. ‘Squeeze the juice from the fruit’ is another one. Then it’s all, ‘Voice, voice, voice’.  Let me tell you, I get quite tired of HER voice, and I bet I’m not the only one.  Oh dear, now I’ve said far too much!

The past week has been all action, despite (or maybe because of) it being the dog days of summer. The new Greenhouse YouTube channel going live. A starred PW review for Sarwat Chadda’s DEVIL’S KISS; Borders Book of the Month in the UK for Harriet Goodwin’s BOY WHO FELL DOWN EXIT 43 – and a deal with Tricycle Press in California for new Greenhouse client Winifred Conkling. The Boss has been free with the milkbones, I can tell you.

In terms of our work day? It’s a tough schedule. We’re in the office early till late.  ‘We’ being me, The Boss, and Aunt Lucy. . . .

Aunt Lucy????

Yes, sorry. Shouldn’t really call her Aunt Lucy in a professional context, but it’s hard to break the habit.  She’s senior to me, extremely hairy and extremely bossy, plus she has an enormous nose (ha, ha! So bite me, Auntie. She’s REALLY sensitive about that nose!).

OK, to be truthful she’s nine years old and thinks she’s ‘all that’ because she used to be a showdog.  Actually, she’s still quite elegant in a faded kind of way, but basically thick as a plank, though don’t quote me.

Miaow!  So a little friendly rivalry around the water cooler, eh?

For sure. Bone Wars form a major part of our day. She takes mine, I take hers. She may be big (especially in the derriere), but I’m the ambitious one.  I’ve nearly cracked the whole toilet inside-or-outside issue (well, almost nearly) and now I’m on my way to make Senior Agent.  I love working with writers, but I’m tough – my bark is nearly as bad as my bite. And I really do work like a dog – took home five manuscripts last weekend, and by Saturday night I’d already shredded two.

Thanks, Wee Man, for all your insights. Finally, tell us what you feel about the whole ‘growing and nurturing’ aspect of Greenhouse. What does all that green imagery mean to you?

Hey, I am the ultimate green guy – I was a shoe-in for Greenhouse! I love chewing acorns, I chase leaves as they dance in the breeze, I can watch a caterpillar for hours, and I will happily eat whole sticks (and vomit them up again) . . .

Ooops, sorry, just checked the Blackberry and I’ve got to dash – running late for a meet-and-greet with the mail man.

It’s been illuminating, Wee Man. And we wish you all the very best as you make a name for yourself (other than that of ‘Squirty McGuirk’) in the children’s books world.

Publication days – especially for debut authors –should be savoured to the full! And none more so than today, which marks publication of Harriet Goodwin’s first novel, THE BOY WHO FELL DOWN EXIT 43, in the UK and Commonwealth.  The publisher is Stripes, the fast-growing, two-year-old fiction imprint of Magi, a UK market leader in full-colour publishing.

Harriet was the second author to be signed by Greenhouse, back in the days when the agency hadn’t even launched – a huge leap of faith on Harriet’s part, which makes it even more exciting to see EXIT 43 out in the stores.

Every author’s journey to publication is long and arduous, so publication is that first great moment in the sun.  Over to Harriet as she shares her big day with us.

Hi, Harriet, wonderful to welcome you to the Greenhouse blog – and also to the ranks of our published authors!  Firstly, can you give us a quick outline of the story of THE BOY WHO FELL DOWN EXIT 43?

Thanks, Sarah! It’s great to be here. The book is about a boy, Finn Oliver, who is plunged into an Underworld populated by the Woken Dead. As he falls, he collides with a Victorian spirit-girl, Jessie Sherratt, who is on her way up to the surface to visit the local graveyard.

Together, Finn and Jessie must save the Underworld from destruction by releasing the ancient Firepearl from its elemental enchantments at the centre of the Earth. But can they reach it before their evil adversary gets there first – and is the Firepearl quite what it seems?

I know you trained as a singer, and that’s really been your principle career. So how and when did the writing bug first bite you? Was it always something you loved to do?

I think I always knew that I could write – but up until several years ago I had never had a really great premise with which to work. Then, a few weeks after the birth of my fourth baby, I had a vivid dream about a boy crashing through the surface of the Earth into a magical Underworld.

I remembered the dream in the morning and decided I had to turn it into a story. It was just too exciting to ignore! And so began eight months (nearly the same length as a pregnancy – funny, that!) of short, furtive bursts of writing. I told absolutely no one what I was doing: finding the time to do it with four young children to look after wasn’t too easy, and I knew that if I blabbed about my secret little pastime it would lose its magic, and that would be that.

Was it difficult to find an agent and get a book deal? Can you tell us about the journey you made and the stages and processes you went through?

My journey to becoming a singer was long and arduous. Comparatively speaking, my journey to becoming a writer was ridiculously quick. I wrote my first draft (in longhand, as I didn’t have a clue how to use a computer back then!) and then sent it off to the [British] literary consultancy, Cornerstones, for a report. This I found enormously helpful: I learnt very quickly how to ‘show not tell’ and sharpened up my dialogue. After rewriting the book I entered it into the inaugural SCBWI Undiscovered Voices competition and was flabbergasted to discover that I had been chosen as one of the twelve winners. Sarah, who was on the judging panel, met up with me in London and took me on – and there then followed a period of intensive rewriting, followed by submission. I got the two-book deal with Stripes in April 2008.

You have four young children. (A moment’s respect as I can’t imagine how you get any writing done at all!). Did they inspire the story of EXIT 43 and have you found it helps to be a parent when you’re writing for kids?  Also, how and where do you write and is it a problem juggling so many different parts to your life?

Usually it’s not too much of a problem juggling the areas of my life. My singing is wonderfully physical and a great antidote to sitting up in my writing shed with my head down. But right now, with the launch of EXIT 43 going on, the editing process for the second book starting up, and ideas for future books coming thick and fast, I am getting to feel a little unhinged. As I write this, my third child is tipping a Peppa Pig beanie character off his dumper truck into a puddle of spilt Ribena – and I am doing absolutely nothing to stop him…

On the positive side, writing is far more conducive to domestic bliss than singing. I stopped opera work some time ago, as I hated being away from the children. Now I just do concert work, which usually involves rehearsing on the afternoon of a concert and performing that evening. I am almost always back that night to plant a kiss on each of their slumbering cheeks before reaching for a glass or two of Chardonnay. Writing is relatively easy to work around family life: I write in a summerhouse at the top of the garden. There is a lovely view of our cottage from it, and an even lovelier lock on the door!

I don’t keep to a rigid daily word count. I am a bit of a perfectionist and know that if I forced myself to reach a specific target each day I would probably self-combust. But I write something every day and keep a notebook with me at all times. Sometimes it takes me a while to lose myself in my story at the beginning of a writing session, but once I get sucked back in everything is usually fine. Certainly writing is not easy, but I am getting better at knowing instinctively when something sounds right in my head.

I wouldn’t say my four children inspired the story of EXIT 43, but they certainly help me keep my feet on the ground – and they always come first. All this writing excitement is great for them too: my two eldest (11 and 9) are coming to both my local and my London launch parties – and they are soooo excited. The two little ones are getting involved too: they each have their own signed copies of EXIT 43 (with seriously weird things written inside involving - guess what - Peppa Pig) which they keep proudly in their bookcases along with their Mr Men books and Curious George.

As to how I find the time, I do no ironing (yes, really, no ironing) and watch no TV. OK, so we all go around in crumpled clothes, but so what?

Are there any tips you could give aspiring writers who are seeking to get published? Anything you wish you had known two years ago?

Write a little every day, so that you don’t lose your thread.

Get your backstory right (this is something I’m still learning about – but wow, does it make a difference!)

Trust your instincts. When something feels right, then it probably is.

Authors often feel that not enough is done to market and promote their books once they actually get on to the shelf. What publicity and marketing will you (and your publisher, Stripes) be doing for EXIT 43?

Stripes has been fantastic in helping me to fix up two launches (one local, one in London), a number of school visits and several website interviews. They have also hosted an EXIT 43 dinner for key booksellers and librarians, at which I spoke. But I am also being very proactive myself: I have set up my own website (http://www.harrietgoodwinbooks.com), done a number of newspaper interviews, spoken on local radio and circulated information around the many choirs with whom I have sung as a soloist. I can think of absolutely no one who hasn’t wanted to help.

You have a two-book deal, and I know you’re already hard at work on your second novel. Can you tell us a bit about that?

It’s called THE EXTRAORDINARY LEGACY OF ELVIRA PHOENIX and I’ve just finished the first draft. It’s not a sequel to EXIT43, though it is for the same age-group (8-12).

At the start of the story, Phoenix Wainwright is handed a letter from his dead mother, instructing him to return to her childhood home and dig into the peculiar mound across the river. But little does he know that he is on the brink of re-triggering an ancient and malevolent curse: Gravenhunger Manor is a dark and mysterious place, poisoned by its own terrible history. Together with Rose, the daughter of his father’s new girlfriend, Phoenix embarks upon an extraordinary adventure, uncovering a stash of fabulous treasure inside the earth...and a whole lot more besides.

Can you describe three aspects of writing ‘craft’ that you feel have been most important as you’ve developed as an author?

1. Learning how to show not tell. (easily the most important)

2. Knowing your backstory inside-out.

3. Not being afraid to scrap sections of work that aren’t quite right/ don’t fit.

Finally, how has this past year been for you, and how does it feel to be published?

The past year has been a steady build-up of work and excitement. Working with Jane Harris, my editor at Stripes, has been an enormous pleasure – she is fantastic, and has a great sense of humour. All the while I have felt wonderfully supported by Sarah, too. And it was great to hear the news of Danish rights to EXIT 43 being sold just a few months ago.

As to how it feels to be published...well, I remember a wonderful Easter concert I sang in a few years back, a St Matthew Passion in Lincoln Cathedral, in which I was one of the soloists. Everything was perfectly right that night: the venue, the music, the occasion. I stood up to sing Erbarme dich, the big mezzo solo, and I felt an incredible sense of warmth the whole way through the aria. I feel exactly the same now. Unbelievably lucky and happy to be where I am.

Congratulations, Harriet – we’re all wishing you the very best of success for the launch of THE BOY WHO FELL DOWN EXIT 43. And we’re raising a glass to your future writing career!

Dear Anonymous

It’s been a while since we were in touch, but this time I thought it should be me who initiated a conversation. Because while we are old acquaintances, I have never before sought you out or told you bluntly how I feel about our relationship.

Firstly, let’s refresh our memories with the details of our most significant encounters.

Top of the list has to come our very first introduction.  I was fourteen years old, and you will probably remember that it was the first time my parents had ever left me alone for a couple of nights in our big, old, sixteenth-century house with its dark backyard and secluded location.  I can still recall my nervous prowling from room to room, flicking on light switches to make sure mysterious bogey-men and unnamed monsters weren’t lurking in the shadowed corners and closets.

So who would have thought my worst fears would come true and that would be the night you would first telephone me to say hello?  You were watching me, you said, and you had been watching me for a while – and didn’t I know who you were because you were always near? I could hear the dark pleasure in your voice; your slow, steady breathing.

Anonymous, it is hard to convey the fear you stirred in me as I stood holding the phone in that unlit room. Who were you? What did you want with me?  And why were you laughing at my silent terror? You knew it would be a very long time before my home, my street, would look familiar or safe again. You knew that you had planted a thought in my head which would stay for months.

Fast forward a lot of years, and now I am a businesswoman – professional, much too busy, a manager of many people, awash with schedules and deadlines. So how could I know that Thursday morning would be the day you would re-enter my life? A different guise, a different agenda, but the same old anonymity.  A package, postmark blurred, heaped innocently with the mail.  I ripped it open and pages spilled out – a letter, suggesting that you knew a lot about me and only had my best interests at heart. But you didn’t – because I have spent my life working with language, and I heard the vicious twist of the knife in your voice as you set out to undermine and destroy. And then the same the following Thursday - the carefully repeated performance, the blackness of your impeccable timing, knowing that a simple day of the week could become imbued with an anxiety that made it hard to breathe.

But, there is more, isn’t there. Now I’m an agent and I meet you again, for you, Anonymous, are the one who wrote to me, complaining about my blog. I actually thought you had a point, and goodness knows I’m not perfect; I do try to listen and learn. But your message has all the hallmarks I’ve come to expect from my old friend Anonymous – the self-righteous air, the mean-spirited tone, though this new model comes with the added piquance of implacability. I offer to telephone you if you would reveal yourself – but no, Anonymous is not a forgiver or forgetter. And certainly not a discusser. You are safe out there in your dark virtual cave and there’s no way you’re coming out into the light.

There have been other flirtations between you and I, and now, Anonymous, I see you everywhere in this literary world - on blogs, in chat-rooms, in Secret Agent contests and Amazon reviews - anywhere where people congregate, and especially where you might have a chance of bringing down the successful. I discover that most well-known authors have encountered you somewhere, some time. And while they try to laugh you off and ‘grow a thicker skin’, I think you know better than any of us that there is something strangely malevolent about the faceless intruder, ‘the paw under the door’.

And now, unsurprisingly, I see you start to approach my own clients, popping up on their sites, undermining their equanimity, ripping into their work, and I rise up like a Mother Lion, because, Anonymous, I’ve had enough of you.

I have tried to think whether there could be any good reasons for you being The Great Unnamed. But I can’t come up with any, because I believe that if you have something to say you should stand up and say it face to face, or at least with your name attached.  And anyway, if you have good intentions how strange it is that your words are so rarely kind or uplifting or generous.

Let’s face the facts. You enjoy the darkness and the freedom you find there. Because if you came out into the startling light of accountability you would be caught, transfixed, by our eyes, and any face-to-face encounter would force you to acknowledge the humanity of those you address.

Anonymous, we have a history, you and I. Our relationship was born many years ago when I was young and powerless and alone in a dark house.  But now there’s something I want to tell you straight. To be anonymous is to be cowardly. Own your opinions, admit to your feelings, and find ways to express them that would allow for genuine dialogue. It’s time to stand up and be a . . . man? A woman?

Now the tables have turned. Because, Anonymous, now I am watching YOU.

Yours sincerely

Sarah Davies
The Greenhouse Literary Agency.